Wired Afternoon
by Wes Defendiver
Summary: A story focusing on Mike Toreno after San Andreas. Rated M for cussing and violence Ch.4 is up. R&R!
1. Intro

Wired Afternoon

By: Wes Defendiver

**A/N: **This is my first serious attempt at a fanfic. Based on Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas. GTA: SA is owned by Rockstar Games. All music mentioned is owned by the respective artist.

Prologue

Mike Toreno was a prominent agent for a government agency that very few knew of. Some say he was CIA, others NSA, but no one knew for sure. Another thing no one knew too much about was that Toreno often was a middleman in international drug trade.

So, you can say that he was instrumental in causing the cocaine epidemic of cocaine and other drugs. Spank was all the rage as a club drug, but a huge seaworthy lab/transport boat was bombed to nothing in 2001. The case, to this day, is still unsolved. Eye witnesses (who were a few straggling dock workers) only remember a blue convertible Banshee speeding away from the scene.

After the eruption of a huge gang war between the Front Yard Ballers and the Grove Street Families, violence and drug use surged; Toreno and his partners—The Loco Syndicate—were profiting well. Carl "CJ" Johnson helped him out in keeping other agencies off his back by causing a few disturbances here and there.

After a local police officer was acquitted of many dubious acts, the city of Los Santos exploded in riots. Strangers were tipping cars, gang members were shooting civilians, police fired at will; Anyone unlucky enough to be driving was stopped by mobs and beaten after being ejected from their vehicle. Those however were ended once the catalyst, Frank Tenpenny was found dead near a massive wreck of cars.

The bodies of the other wanted officers were found months later: Ed Pulaski was found shot dead from a shotgun wound to the chest cavity next to his wrecked Buffalo sports car on the freeway going into Las Venturas. The body of Officer Jimmy Hernandez is still unaccounted for.

That was all in the past now. Mike Toreno was still antsy about being busted. His cohorts were dropping like flies. Lance Wilson was some two-bit punk whose boat blew up at sea; Melvin Harris was a pudgy base head who was once manager for now faded rapper OG Loc whose warehouse/living quarters blew up in a huge fire years ago; The CRASH team was wiped out; fate was slowly cutting his loose ends that tied him to his activities of vice. There were still a few that he had to take care of though.


	2. A call to CJ

Toreno then decided to get to work. He would have to make a few calls to a few of his specialists that he had access to. He picked up his secure phone that could only send and not receive; any attempt to trace to that line would just show up as jammed or out of service. He had a second phone for receiving calls, both had digital equipment that synthesized his voice.

He pushed the "1" button on the speed dial and listened to the phone on the other side ring. Someone answered.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Carl."

"Toreno? What the fuck man! I thought you said that Hydra thing was the last job?"

"Carl, that was a decade ago. Thing have come up now."

"Toreno I got shit to do. This better be important."

"Maybe to me it is important, Carl. Look, all I want from you is your flight skills. Just pick up a few guys , then fly them to LSX, and drive them to one of your safe houses and let them wait for a few."

"Damn man! I gotta let a few nobodies into on of my houses?"

"Carl, you have about 13, not to mention that seized drug mansion has about 13 or more rooms. Plus, it'll only be a couple hours, plus you get to help."

"What do you call me being your pilot?"

"A prerequisite. I mean you get to take part in this!"

"Take part in what?"

"Carl! This is my greatest feat yet! It'll be greater than that thing at Caligula's!"

"Wait how'd you—"

"Carl, remember: I know nothing and everything. Got it?"

"Uh…yeah..sure."

"Great! Now first guy is going to be in Staunton. Bellview Park, bathrooms."

"Um… bathrooms?"

"Yeah, yeah, just flush a toilet three times, that's the signal."

"Got it."

"Next guy is in Portland View. He'll be at Eddie's Auto. Brown trench coat and hat. Say 'Royal Flush,'"

"Okay.."

"Next guy you'll find at the Angel Pine Motel, ask for Jack Powers."

"Right."

"Lastly, I want Zero."

"Zero? That guy couldn't even piss his pants right! The hell he gonna do?"

"Carl, can it! I need him now just get him!"

"Gee, Chill out!"

"I'll be in touch."

The phone went dead and CJ hung up his phone and with that he was off to collect his human cargo.


	3. A Snake in Angel Pine

Well, it was time to go to work. CJ figured he could start with the guy in Angel Pine, seeing as how his mansion in Mullholland mansion was on the border with Red County—the collection of small towns outside of the city that was sometimes referred to as The Badlands. This was because of the vaporous borders and lack of on-duty officers. There was also a rumor about bribes being taken due to the small salary of your average Red County sheriff.

He told Sweet and the rest of his crew that he was going to set up an AA meeting for Mad Dogg. He was in a slump as far as record sales. He started drinking again and rumors were everywhere. Carl always had to act as his liaison and reassure the public that MD was going to rehab.

He had his personal chauffer bring out his white Stafford. He entered and the driver shut the door and entered on the driver's-side door, and started the car.

"Where to, Mr. Johnson?"

"Angel Pine Motel, Jimmy"

"Why you goin' out in the sticks for, boss?"

"Listen, I pay you! So let's move it!"

"Right away."

Carl kicked his foot on the floor, disgruntled at his driver's wise cracks, but he shrugged it off and just flipped a switch that put up a glass separator between the driver and the rear seats, not wanting to be disturbed. The pearl-white car pulled out of the long, winding driveway and into the ritzy suburb of Mullholland; this was for the stars and other high-enders who could afford to get away from the gangs of inner-Los Santos. Jimmy hated driving here; the place was just a long stretch of road that had more hills than a roller coaster with side streets and driveways—much like the one CJ's house had—almost as big as streets. Eventually, you reached a stretch that was in the shadow of the Vinewood hills with it's name in 30-foot-high lettering that led you to Red County.

Angel Pine was like any other township of Red County: a barber, Ammunation, a couple fast food joints, a few local businesses that all stood for 50 years or so, and the rest were houses. There were nicer spots, like Dillimore or Palamino creek that looked like something out of 1950's TV, but all places in Red County was the same. Guys with long, shaggy beards filled with silver hairs; tough-looking bikers, stereotypical cowboys; the fat, old hens and the pretty country gals in short denim skirts or tight jeans. These people disturbed Jimmy greatly. He wondered how these people could walk around barefoot or hold a job with little else to do than flip burgers or a clerk, or a sheriff. These people even drove tractors to work for god's sake!

Soon enough, Jimmy pulled into the dirt lot where the local motel was. Many of the rubberneck rednecks gawked at the fancy white car that pulled up. The nicest car around the Bad Lands was usually just a passing by taxi. They also had a gander at the well-built black man that got out of the car in his fancy black suit and well-polished shoes. He had on black sunglasses so no one could tell his intentions.

"Watch the car. If these yokels start shit, you got the Spas in the trunk."

"Yeah, CJ."

Carl went on inside and asked for Jack Powers

"Room 4."

"Aight, thanks."

Carl walked up the stairs and knocked."

No one answered, but an eye looked through the peep hole in the door.

"Mike sent me."

The door opened and he was let in and shut the door behind him, then locked it. Carl looked over and was shocked at who he was sent to retrieve: "The Mute Snake," he only knew as Claude.


	4. Taking Care of Business

CJ just stared at the muzzle of the silenced 9mm that he found inches from his nose when he turned around from locking the door.

"Hey, Hey! Listen! Chill! Put that thing away!"

"Look man, Toreno sent me! He said he needed you for a job."

"I know."

"Whoa! You talk?"

"Sometimes. Look I know Commando wants me. We spoke a couple days ago."

"It's been a long time hasn't it CJ?"

"Yeah, it has. Last time I heard you were locked up for robbing a bank."

Claude nodded slowly as he always did like he was accepting a job, and it was Liberty City.

"What happened?"

"Well, we were being transported to some big max-security joint. Then the police escort hit's a traffic jam. Next thing you know: boom! Something explodes and we're all free."

"An act of God?"

"Yeah, or some Colombians."

CJ just nodded and spoke up.

"Well, let's get you to a safe house. I got 'em all over the state."

Claude just nodded like he always did.

"We'll put you in my Jefferson house. It's in the same hood as the motel where I'm gonna have Tor—I mean Commando meet us."

"Sounds good to me."

Claude packed his suitcase with his clothes, and weapons and assorted ammo in his traveler's suitcase. He put on his leather jacket and informed the female clerk at the desk he'd be checking out. After Claude paid the lady, he walked to the idled Stafford.

"Sweet ride," he noted.

"Yeah, just one of a few I got around."

CJ got in the back and Claude put his suitcase in the trunk and got in on the other side.

"Hey, boss, who's this Jim Bob you picked up?"

Claude quickly grabbed his neck through the open window separating the two compartments and started strangling him in his silent, trademark way.

"Easy, Jack! He's just buggin'!" Claude remembered to use his assumed name.

He let go as Jimmy chocked and fixed his shirt not saying anything.

"To my place in Jefferson, Jimmy." CJ then proceeded to cut him off with the sliding privacy window.

As they started driving, CJ asked about his time in Liberty City. Claude just mimed the shooting of a gun with his index and thumb a few times. Carl just nodded, assuming it meant he shot up quite a few people. Soon enough they were there and CJ gave Claude his cell number in case he needed anything. Jimmy helped Claude with his luggage.

"Yo, man, I'll call you later for that rifle ok?" Carl nodded and just waved as he went inside the house and shut the door. CJ made up the rifle part as to not let his driver in on the real reason for him gathering this dubious group.

"Okay, Jimmy. Let's head home."

"Alright."

"I just need to go to Liberty for a while. Business you know?

"Yeah, alright."

"I'll be taking the helicopter ."

Jimmy nodded and returned to the Stafford, then started the engine

Carl hopped in the car and they drove off back towards the mansion.

CJ hopped in to his chopper on the helipad on the roof of the house. He listened as the engine roared to life and the propeller spun rapidly making it's whapping sound. He pulled on the joystick, and ascended. He pulled back and off he went to meet the next character in the trench coat at Eddie's Auto.


End file.
